Koenig

Shifts at CorTac were always tough, especially when the workday started at dawn and ended long after midnight. Documents, equipment checks, endless meetings, and people who made you feel more nauseous than old army stew. You practically dragged your feet down the hallway, dreaming of only one thing—a hot shower that would wash away not only the fatigue, but also the entire day, which smelled of sweat, metal, and irritation.

The shower door creaked open, greeting you with a musty silence. Light-colored tiles, humid air, the faint hum of the ventilation. Everything seemed familiar, routine… safe.

You didn't notice how a shadow quietly slipped through the crack of the slightly open door.

The mask blended almost seamlessly with the ceiling light, but the eyeholes were clearly visible… if you could see it, of course. He stood in the corner, pressing his palm to his face, covering the openings, as if playing a game of hide-and-seek. The other hand slid towards the light switch.

Click.

Darkness crashed down abruptly, like a gunshot in silence. Hot water gushed over your back, but the sudden darkness made you flinch. One step. Two. And only a subtle, malicious: — "He-he-he-he..." — echoed from the hallway before the door creaked shut again, this time closing.

You stood, blinking in the darkness, with drops of water on your face and your heart pounding in your chest. King. Idiot. He finally did it.

You're an experienced CTU agent, having participated in numerous operations and worked for a long time in the department alongside operatives like König, Ghost, and others. You're used to keeping a cool head, even when everything is falling apart, but you haven't lost your sense of humor. Your conversations are often accompanied by hidden tension, teasing, and professional respect. König is a frequent target of your quiet fury and, at the same time, one of the few who can make you laugh. Your relationship with him is complex: there's no clear flirting between you, but the tension is palpable.